


The Interrogation Chair

by andabatae



Series: One-Shots and Drabbles [5]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bondage, Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Glove Kink, Light Choking, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, The Force Ships It, Topping from the Bottom, Vaginal Fingering, sexy interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: Rey's second encounter with Kylo Ren in the interrogation chamber takes an unexpected turn...





	The Interrogation Chair

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short, kinky exploration of how the power exchange in that interrogation scene was kinda sexy?
> 
> For those worried about the dub-con nature of sexualizing the interrogation, there is explicit consent in this piece. Both Kylo and Rey enjoy the complicated power dynamic between them, and Rey seizes control of the situation despite being restrained. But if anything about this concept is triggering for you, please skip!

Rey strained against the restraints holding her down for probably the thousandth time, then screamed in frustration. Nausea churned in her stomach, sweat beaded on her forehead, and her heart was racing so hard she fancied it was hammering against the inside of her ribs, desperate to leap straight out of her chest.

If there was anything in the world she hated, it was feeling helpless. As a little girl abandoned on Jakku with no resources and no family, she’d felt the emotion more times than she cared to recall, but she hadn’t for many years. Not since she’d learned to wield a quarterstaff with deadly intent. Not since she’d created a home for herself in an abandoned AT-AT, booby trapping the perimeter against surprise visitors.

The years of suffering, hunger, and mistrust had hardened Rey, but they’d also made her strong. She’d sworn no one would ever take that strength away from her.

Now, someone had.

She jerked in her restraints, bruising her forearms against the thick bands of metal pinning them in place. Her ankles, too, were manacled in place, her legs spread against the tilted interrogation chair.

She didn’t know why it was called a chair, since she was basically lying down, albeit at an upright angle, but she supposed that didn’t matter. What mattered was that _he_ , the monster in the mask, had put her here, and he was probably going to come back to finish what he'd started.

Rey shivered.

She didn’t understand Kylo Ren, and she couldn’t comprehend what had happened between them. He’d been looking for her knowledge of the map to Luke Skywalker, but he’d dug through her memories of Jakku, too, and he’d said the strangest things…

_So lonely._

_You dream of an ocean._

_Don’t be afraid. I feel it, too._

What did he feel, too? Her loneliness? Her terror?

Or had he felt that strange, hallucinatory sense of connection, the one that troubled her more than anything else? Because when he’d been digging around in her head, Rey had dug around in his, and for some reason it had felt like she already knew him. Like he… mattered to her, in some disturbing way.

And she could swear she’d heard his thoughts, there at the end, when she’d accused him of being afraid he’d never be as strong as Darth Vader. It had been a soft, sad whisper: _I’m never enough, so fucking weak…_

And then, so quiet she’d almost missed it: _Please see me_.

He’d stormed away after that, a churning storm of rage and confusion, but threaded throughout was a far more delicate emotion. Something wistful.

He was as lonely as Rey was, and she didn’t understand how she knew that, but she did.

She jerked against the restraints again, using the bruising pain to ground herself. It didn’t matter if Kylo Ren was lonely or wistful or if she had the mad sense that she’d always known him. What mattered was that he had abducted her, and even if all he’d done previously was dig around in her head, their next encounter would probably involve torture.

The door slid open, and Rey flinched. Her heart rate surged when she saw that it was him again, draped in black and wearing the nightmarish mask that concealed any hint of his humanity.

When the door closed, he tapped the panel a few times, locking it, then reached up to disengage his helmet. It hissed and came apart, and he slid it off, revealing the same pale face that had sent a jolt of electricity racing through her entire body the first time she’d seen it. He wasn’t handsome, but he was… something.

Kylo Ren stared at her with fathomless dark eyes, and Rey squirmed beneath that intense look. Her cheeks flushed, and she was aware of every inch of her exposed skin pressed against the hard chair. What did he see when he looked at her?

“Back for more?” she asked, managing to sound decently defiant.

He quirked a brow at her, although on anyone else’s face, she wasn’t sure the miniscule motion would qualify as an expression. She’d noticed, though, that Kylo Ren’s face didn’t reflect the intensity of his feelings. He limited his physical tells to tiny twitches—a flicker under his eye, a clenching of his jaw, a minute compression of his full lips.

She wondered what it would take to break his composure.

“You’re very defiant for a prisoner,” he said conversationally, approaching until he stood right next to her. She fancied she could feel the heat pouring off him even through the heavy black garments he wore. “I’d be careful, if I were you.”

She snorted, turning her head away from him. “Why, because you might tie me up and tear open my mind? Oh, wait—”

Gloved fingers closed over her jaw, squeezing firmly as he turned her face back towards him. “Look at me,” he said quietly. He was leaning over her now, that dark, silky hair tumbling over his brow, and Rey was about to hyperventilate from fear and anger.

She gritted her teeth. “I am.”

His fingers compressed in a silent warning, and then he released her face, although he didn’t straighten. Instead, he braced his arms on the interrogation chair on either side of her, staring at her with a hungry sort of curiosity. “How did you get inside my head?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A sliver of his consciousness pressed against her mind, and she recoiled from the familiar sensation of his mind penetrating hers. She shoved back at him. “Get out!”

The counterattack sent her dipping into his mind. Oh, he was agitated, even if that calm, elegant facade didn’t show it. Seething fury fear _fascination_ —

He instantly blocked her out. “There,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. How did you know to do that? Have you had training?”

“No. I just did what you did.” She scowled at him. “Guess you didn’t like it. Funny how that works.”

He finally straightened, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the roots in a way that snagged Rey’s attention. “You shouldn’t be able to do that. I’m a trained Force user, far more powerful than you—”

Rey snorted. Men and their egos.

He glowered at her. “What?”

“It seems to me,” she said, knowing she shouldn’t antagonize him but unable to stop, “that if you can be challenged by someone with no training or experience in the Force, maybe you aren’t as powerful as you think you are.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to Kylo Ren, because a muscle in his jaw leaped, and then he was gripping her chin in one hard hand again, squeezing until it hurt. “Careful, scavenger,” he breathed, his mouth hovering a few inches above her own. “You have no idea what real power is.”

Against all logic, reason, or sanity, the words sent a dark thrill through her. Rey squirmed a little, wishing she wasn’t pinned down like this. Wishing she could fight him physically, too.

He noticed the movement, and his eyes flicked down to her body before meeting hers again. His pupils had dilated. “You’re shielding your mind much better than before,” he said, “but not well enough.”

Before Rey could puzzle out exactly what he meant by those ominous words, he opened his fingers, releasing her jaw. Rather than removing his hand entirely, though, he trailed his fingertips over her cheek and down her neck, stopping at the exposed skin just below her collarbone.

Rey shivered at that light touch—far more delicate than a brute like him ought to be capable of. The slide of leather against her exposed skin was doing something strange to her. Her cheeks flushed, and a slow throb started between her legs.

Oh, kriff. Rey was… she was…

No. Not for a monster like Kylo Ren. _No_.

She closed her eyes, trying to block him out entirely, but even when she couldn’t see him, she could feel him. That featherlight touch, the heat radiating from him, the puff of his breath against her cheek. The hunger and curiosity that traveled in maddening surges from his head to hers.

“Oh, Rey,” he said, the heat of his breath trailing over her closed eyelids, then her forehead. “What an interesting girl you’re turning out to be.”

Goosebumps broke out over her arms. Only a small slice of skin was exposed between her shirt and her arm wrappings, but it prickled unbearably, and she knew from the surge of triumph that emanated from him that he’d noticed.

Those leather-clad fingers started gently moving back and forth. Each pass grew slightly longer, until his fingers dipped just a bit under the neckline of her shirt.

Oh, fuck. He was barely touching her, and she hated him, and…

And Rey was wet.

“I heard that thought, sweetheart,” he rasped against her ear. “You like this. You like the way I touch you.”

“No,” she said, eyes snapping open. Kriff, when had he gotten so _close_? She could headbutt him if she tried.

Rey welcomed any opportunity for physical violence against the man who had taken her captive, so she snapped her forehead towards him. Kylo pulled back a bare instant before she made contact, and then, to her horror, he laughed. Just once, and it sounded rusty, but it also sounded _good_.

“You have a temper,” he observed, resuming the gentle stroke of his fingers over her collarbone.

“Fuck you, Kylo Ren.”

His lips quirked. “Yes, that is what you’re thinking about, isn’t it?”

She gasped, outraged by the accusation. “I am not!”

“Hm.” He dragged a finger down her sternum, over her clothes, and paused between her breasts. “Are you sure?”

“You’re a monster,” she snapped. “I could never want you.”

He didn’t seem to mind the insult—probably because his mind was stroking against hers again, and even though he wasn’t delving deep, there was no way for him to miss the complicated tangle of emotions currently driving her insane. “You say you could never want me, yet here you are, restrained for me, and your cheeks are the most delicious shade of pink.” He lowered his head and _licked_ her, dragging his tongue from the corner of her mouth to the flushed expanse of her cheek, and by the time Rey recovered enough to try to headbutt him again, he’d pulled away.

“What was that for?” she asked. Her face was burning now, cheeks flushed red from a complicated mixture of mortification and arousal. “Is this some sort of enhanced interrogation technique? Because I have to say, it isn’t very effective.”

His eye twitched. “Would you like it more if I did it as part of an interrogation?”

She shook her head minutely, unable to rip her gaze away from him. She didn’t want pleasure wielded as a weapon against her; she thought that might hurt worse than pain.

A breath shuddered out of him, and his finger stroked up and down her sternum again. “I’m not doing this to get information out of you.”

“Then why are you doing it?” The words were so soft they barely made an impression in the close air of the interrogation chamber, but Kylo heard them anyway. His mouth tightened, and he looked down at his finger where it traced a slow, repetitive path over the coarse fabric of her shirt.

“I don’t know.” His voice was almost as quiet as hers.

Rey gathered her courage and pushed at his mind with hers—gently, because she didn’t want to become the type of person who forced her way into someone else’s private space. He resisted for a moment, and then the wall between them dropped, and he welcomed her in.

 _So beautiful_ , he was thinking. _Want to touch her, want this, want want want…_

_Been so long… don’t understand what this connection is..._

_Please see me, please want me back..._

She gasped, and a ripple of arousal shuddered through her, worsening the hot ache between her thighs. She could feel his desire for her like it was her own, and the knowledge that he was as helpless against this attraction as she was changed everything. Like he’d set a match to gasoline, her body flamed to full awareness, her nipples tightening and her cunt clenching around nothing.

He groaned, and his head tipped forward like he couldn’t support it anymore. He gripped the chair with one hand, still dragging that finger relentlessly across her clothed skin, although now it dipped down to stroke over her belly, tracing the lines of her belt. “Fuck, what is this?”

Rey knew he meant the electric connection between them, not the belt, but she couldn’t focus on anything but that finger brushing over her stomach. He was so close to the waistband of her leggings…

“What is this, Rey?” he repeated in a hot whisper. “What are you doing to me?”

She whimpered—actually whimpered—at the seductive words. “I’m not doing anything. You’re the one touching me.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He studied his stroking hand, then dragged his fingertips up her torso again, pausing only a moment before circling one of her nipples and then pinching it lightly.

Rey moaned, her entire body jerking at the erotic sensation, but the restraints held her fast. “I hate you,” she said, needing to seize back control in some small way, even though all she wanted was for him to keep touching her.

“Do you want me to stop?” His brown eyes flicked up to hers as his fingers kept playing.

No, she really didn’t. “Yes.” She narrowed her eyes at him, expecting him to deny her even that small amount of defiance, even as she anticipated what might happen if he kept going...

He let go of her instantly and straightened to his full height before scowling down at her. “Does lying about it make you feel better about being wet for a monster?”

Rey bit her lip and shifted, hating and loving how even those words resonated between her legs. Hating and loving that he’d stopped touching her when she’d told him to. She hadn’t been this aroused in recent memory—maybe ever. A handful of fumbling encounters on Jakku hadn’t prepared her for the intensity of Kylo Ren.

She ran her eyes over him, from his oddly beautiful face to his gleaming military boots. He was swathed in so many black layers that she couldn’t tell what was underneath. Was he hard for her?

“So, Rey.” He crossed his arms. “Tell me about the map.”

She blinked at him, taken aback by the inquiry. “Pardon?”

One corner of his mouth lifted the slightest amount. “You seemed eager to resume the interrogation.”

Oh, she hated him. She hated him so much. “I’d rather not.”

“I see.” He reached for her again, and she tensed, anticipating his touch on her breast, but instead, he wrapped his fingers around her throat. He didn’t squeeze, just let her feel the deadly potential contained in his hand. “I understand you’re new to this, but prisoners don’t get to dictate terms to their captors.”

She should have feared him more as he cupped her throat. She _did_ fear him, on some animal level that had her gasping and shivering. His hand was massive, and as he squeezed a little, the leather pressing smoothly into her sensitive skin, Rey’s body jerked as if she’d been shocked by a malfunctioning droid. She wanted to run away from him. She wanted to run _to_ him.

She wanted, she wanted…

He smirked at her. “You like this, don’t you? You want more. You want me to play with you. You want to be my toy.”

Anger rose to meet the arousal, because whatever got Rey hot, it wasn’t being someone’s property or plaything. She bared her teeth. “In your dreams.”

“I’m sure it will be.” He bit down on his plush, rosy lower lip, and her eyes were drawn helplessly to the movement. “Why do you think you like being tied up, Rey?”

She didn’t _know_ , and that was almost as maddening as the rest of it. By all accounts, she ought to be disgusted by this man—this monster—who had abducted and imprisoned her, who had ripped her mind open, then put his hands on her without permission. Rey hated being helpless; she always had.

_I’m not helpless._

The thought was electrifying. Rey’s breath stalled in her lungs as she stared up at Kylo, reaching for whatever epiphany hovered just outside of conscious thought.

She might be imprisoned, but Rey hadn’t given up any information about the map, even when he’d delved. She’d attacked him right back, prying open his mind. She could do it again right now, if she wanted.

And Kylo Ren’s right hand might be wrapped firmly around her throat, but his left one was compulsively clenching and unclenching at his side, and his cheekbones were brushed with pink.

Rey had power here.

The missing piece slid into place, and Rey gasped with sudden certainty. She and Kylo Ren might not be equals socially or politically, but here, in this interrogation room where they were testing their minds and bodies against each other, they were evenly matched. Rey might be restrained for him, but she could stop him from touching her if she wanted to. She already had.

She could also _make_ him touch her if she wanted to. He would do it eagerly—she could read his frustration in the taut lines of his body and the hungry gleam in his eyes. She could feel it humming along whatever strange connection had been forged between their brains. He wanted her—probably even more than she wanted him.

“You’re wrong.” A surge of confidence had her returning his smirk with her own.

“About you liking to be tied up?” His eyebrow crept up. “Unlikely.”

Rey licked her lips. Was she really going to do this?

Yes. Yes, she was.

“You’re wrong about captives being unable to dictate terms to their captors.”

His nostrils flared as he inhaled, and his grip on her throat briefly tightened, the extra pressure so fleeting it seemed like an involuntary response. “Is that so.”

“It is.” She met his gaze boldly. “And now I’m going to dictate some terms, Kylo Ren.”

He scoffed. “I can’t wait to hear them. I can already tell you the answers: No, I will not stop asking questions. No, I will not release you from this chair.”

“I want you to make me come.”

At her blunt words, Kylo coughed, then turned a very interesting shade of red. His hand on her throat trembled, and he snatched it back. “You,” he said, then cleared his throat. “What?”

“You heard me.” She leaned forward as much as she was able to, straining her head towards his the way she had during the first interrogation, when she’d fought against his mind control. “I want you to make me orgasm.”

He pressed his lips together, then sucked them, working his mouth as he ran a hungry gaze over her body. “That’s quite a demand.”

She settled back against the chair. “If I’m not mistaken, you were offering only a few minutes ago.”

This time, when she tested herself against the cuffs binding her, it wasn’t with thoughts of escape. It was with a wicked thrill as she considered how little room she would have to writhe under his ministrations.

Kylo may have been taken aback by her forwardness, but he rallied quickly, the shock on his face replaced by pure, carnal interest. “You’re right; I was offering.” He reached for her breasts again, using both hands this time—no more hesitation now that he knew what she wanted. He massaged her breasts, then squeezed both nipples at once. The pressure sent a bolt of pleasure straight to Rey’s cunt, and she whimpered. “You like that, Rey? You like having my hands on you?”

She squirmed as much as she was able to within the restraints. “Do you like it?” she asked, determined to challenge him throughout this insane encounter.

He squeezed her breasts hard enough to hurt. “Fuck, Rey. I like it so much.”

“What do you like about it?”

Kylo leaned forward to nibble down her neck. “You taste like sweat and the desert.”

She grunted at him. “Not the best compliment.”

He lifted his head to look at her, and if his dark eyes had been arresting before, the way his eyelids drooped with arousal was devastating. “You taste _perfect_ ,” he said with a startling amount of vehemence before recommencing his slow journey down towards her neckline.

Rey was already almost crawling out of her skin, and they’d barely begun. She should feel bad about this, she really should, but she couldn’t. It was twisted and depraved, but she wanted Kylo Ren’s mouth and hands on her. Rey had lived a life of deprivation—she knew better than to deny herself anything she wanted if it was available. “You didn’t answer me,” she gasped as he sucked her nipple through her shirt.

He didn’t say anything right away, too busy paying worship to her breasts. When he finally stopped mouthing at her, he looked up again. “What was the question?”

“What do you like—ah!—about this?” Rey’s question was interrupted as he kissed down to her stomach. She was still fully dressed, but even blunted by fabric, his attentions were all-consuming. She wasn’t sure if he was innately talented—the men Rey had known on Jakku hadn’t been particularly skilled—or if it was just his ravenous hunger and single-minded focus that made this so hot. Or maybe it was because she was restrained in front of her enemy, tied up for a complete monster with a face like an angel, a man whose mind was a devastating storm of power and need…

“Oh, fuck,” she said as more moisture spilled out of her. “Oh, shit.”

He grinned—actually grinned, revealing adorably crooked teeth—as he trailed his fingers along her clothed stomach. “I’m not even touching your bare skin yet, and you’re singing for me.” He hit a button at the side of the interrogation chair, and suddenly, the entire thing began tipping backwards. Soon, Rey was lying on her back, her arms still restrained, her legs split wide but not wide enough in a way that was unbearably erotic.

Kylo clambered over her, kneeling on top of her—he couldn’t quite fit his hips between her restrained legs, so instead he surrounded her—and sucked her throat with ardent enthusiasm. He would probably leave bruises, but it felt so good that Rey couldn’t care. “I like everything about this,” he said as he mouthed at her throat, his hand skating down her body towards her hip. “I like having you restrained for me, so you have no choice but to take the pleasure I give you. I like how much you hate me and want me all at once. Most people just fear me.”

Rey would have given a smart response to that, but his hand abruptly covered her pussy, and all she could do was gasp and arch against the pressure, although she couldn’t move much.

“I like how you look,” he said, kissing down to her breasts as his hand started massaging her below, the heel of his palm rubbing against her clit. “You’re beautiful, you know. Fierce and delicate all at once. And I like the sounds you make, and most of all I like the way your mind feels slipping into mine…”

“Kylo,” Rey gasped, bucking her hips up against his touch. “Oh, kriff, Kylo, please…”

“I like how you beg,” he said as he kissed his way down to her abdomen. “I want to make you desperate for me. To leave you wanting until it drives you mad, then give you exactly what you need.”

“Oh, oh…” Rey was going to lose it. She was out of her mind with lust. She’d never imagined anyone speaking such hot, illicit words against her belly, much less the enemy who filled her with equal parts fear and desire.

Kylo removed his hand from her pussy and rose up a bit, brushing aside the draping fabric of the wrap that went over her tunic and leggings. He curled his fingers over her waistband, then looked up to meet her eyes. “I’m going to lick your cunt,” he said bluntly, and Rey shuddered at the words.

He tugged her leggings and underwear down, making frustrated huffing noises when he reached the cuffs binding her ankles.

“You know, you could release me,” she said.

He shot her a dark look. “Nice try.”

With her leggings pooled around her ankles, Rey was totally bare. She shifted uncomfortably, struck by self-consciousness at being exposed in front of another person. She so rarely did this, and no one had _looked_ between her legs the way he was, like her cunt was a holy relic…

“Gorgeous,” Kylo breathed. He was still straddling her hips with his massive thighs, the black drapery of his outfit pooling between them, but he scooted back on the interrogation table, making some adjustment to the controls until flaps extended on either side, widening the platform. Of course. Not everyone the First Order interrogated would be human-sized.

Rey’s bitterness at being reminded of the purpose of the chair vanished as Kylo settled over her lap, his mouth hovering above her belly. He looked up at her, breathing heavily against the coarse hair that topped her slit. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

Rey tensed against the restraints pinning her arms down, wishing she could plunge her hands into his hair. She wanted to guide him, show him what felt good…

Kylo Ren’s mouth covered her pussy, and Rey shouted. His mouth was so _hot_ , his lips soft, his tongue insistent. This wasn’t the tentative lick of a teenager unsure how the act ought to go; he was a _man_ , fully aware of everything his mouth could do.

Rey groaned and thrashed in her bindings, reveling in the ache as she battered her bruises against the cuffs. She cursed and babbled, a stream of nonsense pouring from her mouth as Kylo dedicated himself to her clitoris enthusiastically. “Oh, Kylo,” she whimpered as he slid a gloved finger inside her. “What are you doing to me?”

“Worshipping you,” he said against her cunt, following the words with a suck to her clitoris. “Fuck, Rey, you’re incredible.”

She sobbed, mostly in pleasure, but a little in grief. No one had ever found her incredible before. No one had wanted to give her pleasure just for the sake of it. Rey had spent her life scrabbling for the things she wanted; why was her enemy, the notoriously brutal Kylo Ren, the first person who’d ever wanted to make her feel good?

“Kylo, Kylo…” Her eyes blurred, and then tears spilled over in a mortifying display as her hips twitched under his assault.

“Shh,” he soothed, even as he slid a second finger inside her. “I’m going to make you come.”

 _Yes_. Rey tipped her head back, closing her eyes as she reveled in the sensations Kylo was giving her. Maybe this was sick and wrong, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was his mouth on her.

He crooked his fingers inside her, and Rey lost her mind. Between the restraints and Kylo’s forearm holding her hips down, she couldn’t do anything but take the devastating pleasure he was offering. She gave in to it, and the orgasm surged through her, wringing her out and sending her soaring. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, and the cry that ripped out of her throat was guttural and desperate.

Distantly, she was aware of him swearing and jerking between her legs, his lips drawn up in a snarl as he licked her through her orgasm. Fuck, had he just come in his pants from licking her? The thought made her shudder again.

Finally, they stilled, both heaving frantic breaths as they came back down. Rey giggled, so high on her orgasm that she could hardly think. “Thanks,” she slurred.

To her surprise, Kylo appeared distressed. He tugged up her garments, then retreated to stand beside the table. He might be dressed like death incarnate, but his eyes were wide and strangely vulnerable, and he was worrying his lip with his teeth—the lip that still glistened with her arousal. “I— I should—" He gestured at the door.

Rey’s heart sank. Sure, this was her nemesis and kidnapper, but she didn’t want this to be over yet. She hadn’t even touched his cock—and Rey realized abruptly that she wanted to touch it very much, indeed. “Is this the part where you say you don’t want me to spend the night?” she asked caustically. “Because I’m still trapped in an interrogation chair, in case you didn’t notice.” Kriff, she was used to easy dismissals after sex—sometimes delivered by her partners, sometimes by her—but this encounter felt different. More intimate, although that sentiment deserved a hearty dose of laughter and a visit to a therapist.

“You’re incredible,” Kylo said softly, and some of Rey’s pique faded. “But I have a responsibility to the First Order.”

“So you’re going to interrogate me again? Execute me?”

His mouth worked, and a muscle flickered in his jaw. “I didn’t think it would end up like this. Never in my wildest dreams…”

A heavy, numbing sadness settled over Rey. “But it happened,” she said, knowing she wasn’t adequately concealing the disappointment in her voice. “And now you’ll do what you think you have to.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Well, then.” Rey had nothing else to offer. She’d given him her body, but she’d still wanted… more. _His_ body, his skin, his vulnerability. Some fucked up arrangement where they could be something besides victim and villain.

“The stormtrooper that will come in here next,” he said in an odd tone, “is weak-minded.”

She wrinkled her brow. “Okay?”

He took a deep breath. “If you focus on his mind, you can shape his intentions. So if you were to focus on him and then tell him to help you escape this chamber…”

Abruptly, Rey understood what he was saying—although she didn’t understand _why_ he was saying it. “You... want me to come to you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing. I just...” He sighed. “Be safe, Rey.”

Rey struggled to keep up with her changing reality as her heart simultaneously ached and sang. This was an unexpected mercy, and it told her there was so much more to Kylo Ren than met the eye, if only she could figure out how to break down his barriers.

“Be safe, Kylo,” she whispered.

Then he was gone, vanishing through the door like he had never been. Twenty minutes later, a stormtrooper stepped in to ‘keep watch,’ even though no one had ever done that before, considering how she was trussed up.

“You will remove these restraints and leave the cell with the door open,” she said, drawing on the well of power that had grown more obvious since she’d met Kylo.

“I will remove these restraints and leave the cell with the door open.”

“And you’ll drop your weapon.”

“And I’ll drop my weapon.”

As Rey escaped, she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong, that she was running in the wrong direction…

“This isn’t over,” she vowed, although whether she was making the promise to him or to herself, she wasn’t sure.


End file.
